


A Free Man

by CuteQoobee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crimes & Criminals, Developing Friendships, Digging, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Gen, Good Theodore Nott, Inspired by Novel, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Magical Realism, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Prison camp, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Redemption, Squibs, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteQoobee/pseuds/CuteQoobee
Summary: In which Draco Malfoy dig trenches, ruminates on his crimes and somehow - finds redemption.*sporadic updates*
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A Free Man is my take on the redemption arc I pictured Draco Malfoy's character having between the last chapter and epilogue of Deathly Hallows. The premise is inspired by Louis Sachar's HOLES, and you will find that the beginning paragraphs are quite similar to the story.  
> This story is not a romance, but there will be interactions between Draco and Astoria in the latter half of the story that can suggest why he ultimately pursues her and is married to her.
> 
> I'm always open to comments and feedback!
> 
> ~ Bea

**Prologue:**

The year is 1999 and there is no water at Lake Mortuus. It was once a very large lake, the largest in the hamlet of Vastitas. That was before. Now, it is just a waterless muddy bottom strewn with decomposing corpses.

For the better part of the year, the daytime weather borders around cold, wet, and miserable. If you were lucky, there wasn't any wind. But then again, if you were lucky - you wouldn't be at Lake Mortuus.

Torrential rain has turned the digging site into a quagmire as far as the eye can see. Out on the northern edge of the 'lake', there are two very large rundown buildings and a few sheds - the only relief from the wet outdoors. Prisoners aren't allowed to enter the buildings without permission.

This is why you need to remember a good rule about Lake Mortuus. The less magic you do around it, the less magic it will steal from you.

Sometimes a prisoner will try to do wandless magic, perhaps a warming charm or a healing charm. Then he'll spend a day or two recovering in the healer's shed, instead of having to dig trenches out on the lake. Small bouts of wandless magic is not the worst thing you can do. You won't die.

Usually.

But you don't want to be like Old Man Crabbe, who'd stolen a wand and worse still, tried to use it. That's the worst thing you can do. You will die a slow and painful death.

Old Man Crabbe did.

If by a stroke of misfortune, you manage to find a wand, throw it away. Because if you dare use it, there is nothing anyone can do for you anymore.

The year is 1999, and we are getting ahead of ourselves.


	2. Chapter 1

Now, the reader is probably asking themselves: Why would anyone go to Lake Mortuus?

The answer is simple. It's better than Azkaban.

Or at least that's what Draco Malfoy thought.

* * *

Draco spent the better part of 1998 in a crowded holding cell at the Ministry of Magic. They'd apprehended a large number of criminals after the war, they'd explained, right before informing him that his trial was delayed several months.

But Draco had other concerns at the time. All the money in the world wasn't enough to get him a lawyer. "You don't need a lawyer," his mother had said. "You were a child, they can't hold it against you."

It didn't matter. The Wizarding World was out for blood. Harry Potter himself could have testified at his trial, _had_ testified in fact, but even that wasn't enough. Draco was sentenced to three years in Azkaban.

Near the end of the year, Draco was given a choice. The judge said, "You continue your sentence here as planned, or you do community service at Lake Mortuus for one year."

He jumped at the chance.

* * *

Draco was the only passenger in the car, not counting the driver or the Auror. The Auror sat next to the driver, peering at Draco every so often from the rearview window, a wand clenched tightly in his hand.

Draco was in the back, his arms cuffed to the car's grab handle. His coat lay beside him, on top of a crate supplied by the Ministry. It contained rubber boots, a few pairs of thick socks, gloves and a hat.

He wondered how long it would be before they got to the lake. He'd been sitting in the car for over three hours and the drive had become increasingly bumpy after they'd veered on to a dirt road. Why couldn't they just apparate there, they were _wizards_ for crying out loud.

He sighed. The Auror shot Draco a look.

Draco's mother liked to pretend that he was heading out for his year of travel, like all pureblood sons did after graduating from Hogwarts. When Draco was younger he used to listen in awe to the stories told by his father as they'd taken a stroll in their garden. He'd wondered about all the places he'd go after Hogwarts, all the magic he'd see…

Now, as he headed off to a prison camp in the middle of nowhere, Draco just felt relieved to be faring better than the rest of his friends. Better a year at a camp then to be stuck in Azkaban, he thought. Or dead, like -.

He shuddered.

He was better off where he was. Sure, he would have preferred somewhere nicer for a prison camp. Walking along a rickety pier and stony beach was hardly an activity Draco considered enjoyable, but he'd rather that when compared to the thought of 'living' with the dregs of society for three years. Plus, there weren't any dementors at prison camp.

Most importantly, a year by the lakeside would give Draco just enough time to disappear from people's minds. Then when everything was done, he could take his rightful place in the wizarding world and restore the Malfoy name back to its former glory.

All things considered, Draco was not a bad guy. He'd certainly never tortured a student at Hogwarts - let alone killed a mudblood or two like the others had. His only crime was trusting the wrong man to promote pureblood ideals. If it weren't for that no-good-bastard-son-of-a-near-squib, Draco's family would be living carefree in their manor in Wiltshire. Instead, here they were - his father rotting in an Azkaban cell, his mother alone at the manor and Draco, heading to prison camp.

The car stopped in front of a large stone archway. Draco sat up, instantly alert. A sign above the arch read: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE LAKE MORTUUS CORRECTIONAL FACILITY.

"We're here," said the Auror.

Draco looked out the window with confusion. There wasn't a lake to be seen, only a muddy field and some scraggly trees.


	3. Chapter 2

Draco felt somewhat irritated as the Auror fiddled with the keyring - looking for the right one to unlock the handcuffs. "Wouldn't it be faster if you used your wand?"

The Auror sneered at Draco as he unlocked his handcuffs and led him out of the car. Draco wasn't sure why the Auror was mocking him when he wasn't even capable of using a simple _Alohomora_. He stepped out onto the muddy ground, rubbing his wrists as he took in his surroundings.

The land outside was quaggy and desolate. He could see a cobblestone path heading to a short white-stone building. Further away there was another stone building, about four stories tall, with bars across its narrow windows.

The Auror shoved the crate into Draco's hands and led him to the first building. Draco was surprised to see that the inside of the building was nicer than its exterior had suggested. They walked past the foyer into a narrow hallway with wood-paneled walls, stopping in front of the first door on their right. The Auror loudly rapped his knuckles against the door, before opening it and heading inside.

An old woman was sitting stiffly at an old cherry wood desk. She lifted her head when Draco and the Auror entered, but otherwise didn't move. She wore a dark red dress with the sleeves rolled up. Her arms were covered in wrinkles, as was her face. Her grey hair was pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head. The Auror walked over, reaching into his robes and pulling out some papers for the woman to sign. Draco shifted his feet behind them as he waited.

"The staff should be done preparing the meal for you and the driver downstairs, Mr. Dawlish," the woman said softly. Ah, so that was his name, Draco thought. Dawlish left the office with a curt nod at Draco.

The woman smiled wanly at Draco, gesturing for him to sit at the chair in front of her desk. "My name is Ms. Desmond." she said, "I am the warden of this facility."

She jabbed her finger at the paper on her desk. Her fingernails were painted black. "It says here that you'll be working at our facility for a year. For that time, the staff at Lake Mortuus will provide you with food, shelter and all the equipment you need to do your work. In return, we expect your full and complete cooperation. That means no shirking your duties, no violence and absolutely no insubordination - is that clear?"

Draco nodded.

Ms. Desmond stared hard at him. "I do believe I asked you if that was clear."

Draco hesitated. "Uh, yes ma'am." he said.

"The next time I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it without hesitation."

Ms. Desmond then gave him two sets of work clothes and a towel. Each set consisted of a grey shirt, jumper and trousers. He was also given his own pair of pyjamas, bright-orange work overalls and a flask. He added all the items to his crate.

"You are to dig trenches for eight hours every day. All trenches must be six feet wide and seven feet deep. The counselors have measuring sticks to check your work. You start digging at 8, stop digging at 5. Breakfast is served at 7:30, lunch at 12, and dinner at 5:30. After you finish the eight hours of digging, the rest of the day is yours."

Draco nodded numbly.

Draco had to sign some papers acknowledging that he understood and agreed with what was expected of him. Ms. Desmond took the papers from him, putting them away into a drawer in her desk before she announced that she'd be leading him to the prisoner's quarters. She stood up and walked around her desk to a large wardrobe, from which she grabbed a coat and pair of boots. She motioned for Draco to do the same.

Ms. Desmond stopped at the threshold of the building and turned to face Draco. "One last thing...magic is forbidden at Lake Mortuus. Disobeying this order will only be to your own detriment."

Draco waited for her to elaborate further. She didn't.

Ms. Desmond led Draco into the howling wind. There was no cobblestone path between the staff building and the prisoner's quarters. The ground gave way under his feet with each step, making it hard for Draco to maintain his balance.

Ms. Desmond stopped a few hundred meters from the staff building and pointed out to the vast wasteland. Draco could see some people dressed in orange, digging outside in the compound. "If you choose to take breaks outside of lunch - you are expected to cover the time after 5pm until you fulfill your mandatory digging hours."

They walked the rest of the way in silence to the prisoner's quarters.

* * *

There was a hallway lined with coat hooks, and each one had a name tacked above it. The air was thick with the smell of water and dirt and the floor was coated in mud.

Ms. Desmond led Draco down the hall, pointing to a coat rack with his name. She told him to hang his overalls and coat on the hook, and leave his boots on the mat below after every shift to "avoid tracking mud everywhere".

Just before the stairs, there was a door on either side of the hallway that led to the prisoner's bathrooms. They ignored it and walked up the stairs.

There were six wings in the prisoners quarters and each floor had two wings. Draco was assigned to Room 4, located on the third floor. On each floor, there was a small alcove, littered with small circular tables and plastic chairs. No one was sitting there.

Ms. Desmond led Draco inside Room 4.

The inside of the room was grey and barren, the walls a haphazard mix of mortar and stone. Light streamed into the room from two tall, narrow windows. There were three cots on each side of the room. Each one sat less than three feet from the one next to it. Five crates, almost identical to Draco's, were lined on the floor on one side of the room. Draco walked in, and set his crate down in the space between the wall and the fifth crate. Towel racks were hammered on the wall above the crates.

A boy and a girl, each carrying a handful of clothes and a small bag entered the wing. They stilled when they noticed Draco and .

"Lynsey! Alistair! I want you to come say hello to Draco," said . "He's the newest member of our team."

Alistair walked up to greet Draco first. He was a short boy, even younger than Draco, with black hair shaved close to the top of his head.

"Hi," Alistair said. He made no effort to shake Draco's hand.

Ms. Desmond told Alistair to bring the others to meet Draco. He dropped his clothes into a crate, hung his towel and headed out.

The girl who'd walked in with Alistair stepped up to Draco.

"Hello," said Lynsey as she smiled and shook Draco's hand. Lynsey was taller than Draco, with a heart-shaped face and mousy brown hair that was dripping water onto the floor. She tilted her head towards him quizzically. "Say, you look mighty familiar."

"Lynsey, you know the rules," Ms. Desmond tutted. She turned to Draco. "We don't share our family names here - it helps us get to know the person better."

"My mistake , won't happen again." she smiled brightly. Ms. Desmond ignored her.

"Which one of these beds is unoccupied?" asked Ms. Desmond.

"That one," said Lynsey, pointing to one of the beds. Ms. Desmond nodded.

"All right, Draco, that will be your bed." she said. Draco looked at the cot and nodded. He wasn't particularly thrilled about sleeping on a bed with yellowed bedding, especially when he wasn't sure if the bedding had been yellow originally.

"₋ _ah_ , I see Marius has already provided you with your toiletries." Ms. Desmond reached over to his cot and plucked a small bag that had been perched upon the pillow. She rifled through the bag carefully. A bar of soap, a toothbrush, small plastic comb, "Looks like everything is here."

Alistair returned with two more people. They were considerably older than Draco, though not quite as old as Ms. Desmond. They introduced themselves as Shona and Stuart while Alistair explained to Ms. Desmond that the last member of the room, Theo, was still in the showers.

"Most people take a shower after the work day is done, helps them feel refreshed," explained Ms. Desmond. "Now, I prefer to introduce new members to their roommates but I suppose you will just have to meet Theo on your own."

"Each member of this camp adjusts to life here differently. If you have questions, your roommates will help you." She turned to the others. "You were all new here once, so I expect you know how Draco feels. I'm counting on all of you to help Draco adjust to life at Lake Mortuus. His mistakes will reflect back upon each and every one of you. Make sure that I do not receive any complaints from the counselors."

Draco looked at the ground uncomfortably.

Ms. Desmond left the room to return to her office, and soon the others began to move as well. Lynsey and Alistair sat down on a bed and quickly resumed their conversation. Draco was relieved to be left alone, he wasn't quite ready to talk to the others just yet.

The room door was opened again, this time by a tall boy, who Draco supposed was the last of his roommates. Draco's eyes widened as the boy stepped into the room. He'd always been stringy, bordering on weakly, but now he'd filled out, grown into his lanky frame.

"Nott!"

"We don't use last names here," said Theo, looking around the room before glancing wearily at Draco. It didn't look like anyone had noticed Draco's slip-up. Lynsey was laughing along to something Alistair had said. Stuart was reading a book on his cot, which looked like it was seconds away from collapsing under his weight. Shona was nowhere to be seen, having left the room a few minutes prior.

"Uh, sorry...Theo." Draco said, going after him. "How are you? How long have you been here?"

Theodore looked at the ground.

"Few months."

As he watched the boy turn and walk away from him, Draco couldn't imagine why Theodore Nott wasn't excited to see him.


End file.
